The Mistake
by Cazrolime
Summary: Joan's friend Tobias has gone missing, and no one can tell her where he is. But on her search for the truth, she gets caught up in something bigger than she ever imagined...
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Behold! I am actually writing something non-LotR related! Anyway... 

(Note: I've edited this chapter. Nothing major... just grammar and such.)

**The Mistake**

Joan's friend Tobias has gone missing, and no-one can tell her where he is. But on her search for the truth, she gets caught up in something bigger than she ever imagined…

**Chapter 1**

My name is Joan.

I go to a regular high school, in a regular town, a regular state; I am of normal height and build, with normal brown eyes and hair; I live in your typical neighbourhood, with a mall and a school and a bunch of typical, uniform houses and apartments. In fact, you might say that my life is boringly average.

At least, that's what I used to think.

It all started when one of my friends went missing. My friend Tobias. I thought he was ill at first, or hadbeen shunted off to another relative – but surely he would have mentioned something. No: he'd just disappeared one day, and even though the cops made a kind of half-hearted enquiry, no-one could find anything and the matter was dropped. Just like that. You know when you lose a bracelet or something and you're a bit put out and look for it? But then you think: _Never mind, I've got plenty of bracelets and I can always buy a new one_, and just give up? It was like that. Only Tobias was a human being. I can't believe they did that.

But shortly before that, I was conducting an enquiry of my own. The first day Tobias wasn't at school, I'd called the uncle he was staying with, but the phone just rang and then went to one of those annoying little novelty answering machines. The second day, this was repeated, with the same result. My friend Erika hadn't seen him either. So I decided that, on the third day, if Tobias was still off, I'd ask around school and see if anyone else knew anything.

My first target was Jake. He's a tall guy and quite good-looking, and I knew him through Tobias—Jake once stopped a couple of thugs from giving Tobias a swirly in the school toilets, and they've been friends ever since. Jake's a good guy.

I decided to grab him at lunch. I found him hanging out with his friend Marco in the lunch hall—I swear, the two are joined at the hip. They were having some dumb argument about whether Batman or Spiderman would win in a fight. It was the same dispute they'd been having for months, and I had a feeling it would endure until the end of time itself.

"Hey, Jake," I called across the crowd, strolling over to them. "Can I have a word?"

They both jumped—they'd been a bit on edge lately. Marco batted his ridiculously long eyelashes mockingly. "Ooh, Jake, you ladykiller. Who's your latest conquest?"

He knew who I was, but you see, Marco's always fancied himself a comedian. Jake pushed his shoulder playfully to shut him up, and nodded to me. "What's up, Joan?"

"You haven't heard from Tobias, have you?"

They both looked at each other, no longer grinning. "He's…"

"Away," supplied Marco. "He's gone back to live with his aunt…"

I frowned. "Why didn't he say anything?"

"Well… it was… extremely short notice. Here today, gone… slightly later today."

And that was pretty much the whole conversation. I thanked them and walked away, a little hurt that Tobias had found time to tell them and not me. I knew that he and Jake were close friends, but still… see, I like Tobias. You know, _like _like. I thought he _like_ liked me too. Enough to phone me up and tell me he'd moved away, anyway.

Looking back, maybe I should have figured out straight away that there was something else going on. And perhaps I did sort of know, at least subconsciously, that things didn't quite add up. People can move quickly, but not _that_ quickly. And if he'd simply moved away, why had the police been called? And why couldn't he have phoned me? He had my number.

Even so, there was no harm in checking, and so after school I jogged straight home and grabbed the telephone. I'd forgotten to ask Jake and Marco which aunt he'd gone to live with, but luckily Tobias had given me the phone numbers for both—although I had never visited him there. I think he was embarrassed by them.

I phoned the number with the out of state area code first, reasoning that if he'd gone there he'd have been more likely to have to change schools. But he wasn't there; the cigarette-voiced woman on the other end told me in no uncertain terms that she had no plans to have him there anytime soon, either. _So he must be at the other aunt's_, I thought. _No biggie._ Typed in the number. Listened to the dial tone, and the shrill ringing. At last the phone was picked up, and I asked the same question as before.

The reply: Tobias wasn't there either.

His uncle's house. He must be there. I dialled quickly, hit a wrong number, dialled again. A slurred, drunken-sounding voice answered.

No Tobias.

I put the phone down, breathing hard.

He'd disappeared.

Tobias had disappeared, and I had no idea where he was.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: A thousand pardons for taking so long. I was unable to upload anything to I have no idea why... but the important thing is that we're back in business! W00t! 

On with the show...

(Note: I've edited this chapter. Nothing major, just grammar and stuff.)

**The Mistake**

**Chapter 2**

I didn't waste any time the next day. I grabbed Jake the second I got to school, before he even had a chance to walk through the big double doors. "Why did you lie to me?"

He blinked and frowned. "You what?"

"Tobias. He's not at his aunt's. He's not anywhere."

Jake stared a little more. Then he said, "Oh."

"Damn right, _oh_," I exclaimed loudly. A couple of people looked over to see what was going on. "Do you know where he is? If you know, tell me right now. And tell the police as well, and everyone else. You're not his only friend, you know."

Jake just stood there, looking distracted. I got right in his face and demanded: "Are you even listening to me…?" He wasn't even _looking_ at me! But it was then that I realised that he was carefully looking anywhere but up. He'd obviously seen something up there, and didn't want me to see it. So, because I was mad at him, and I get contrary when I'm mad, I looked up.

There was nothing there, except for a blinding sun and some big bird hovering over the playing field. I turned my face back to Jake, who, if I had cared to notice it, was looking quite sad and guilty. "Where is he?" I asked one final time, pleading now, feeling my eyes prickle.

He shook his head. "I don't know."

He was lying. But now there were tears blurring my sight, and I hate anyone seeing me cry. I ran indoors and took refuge in a toilet stall, howling my frustration at the graffiti'd walls.

…

I kept my head down for the rest of the day, my foul temper repelling most of the other students. Erika stuck by me, trying to cheer me up. "The police will find him," she said. This was back when they still gave a damn. "Maybe he ran away or something, you know how his family was. And then maybe it'll be even better for him – they'll see how bad a guardian his uncle is, and get him some foster parents who'll actually care for him. This could end up being a good thing."

I knew she was just making half of that stuff up to try and make me feel better. Stuff only turns out perfect in fairy-tales, no matter how great it would be in real life. But still, her being there and just talking made me smile. Erika's a great friend.

Plus, there was something to look forward to that evening. Erika and I, along with a couple of others, had just started going to this new group thing called the Sharing, and our second meeting was tonight. It was all good, wholesome fun: families playing games, everyone banding together and working as a team; you know, stuff that sounds cheesy when you say it, but it's good. It was a big thing tonight: we were having an overnight camp-out, right here in the school, toasting marshmallows, telling ghost stories and all laying sleeping bags out in the hall and gym. It had been advertised everywhere, and people had been encouraged to come even if they weren't Sharing regulars. We'd been anticipating this for a while, and Erika wasn't going to let me miss it and go home to sulk all evening.

I wanted to get out of the house, so I phoned Erika and we went up to the school at nine, half an hour before anyone else would arrive. The school looked huge, dark and empty. Do you have any idea how creepy an abandoned school is, in the dark?

"It just had to be a full moon," Erika joked. "What if someone gets bitten by a werewolf? I'll bet they haven't insured for that."

"Oh, please. A werewolf? Here? I think you'll find that it's an army of vampires that will kill everyone tonight." We both grinned, high on the thrill of running around after dark. It's the same giddy feeling you get on Halloween, only we weren't wearing costumes, only our pyjamas under our clothes, and carrying sleeping bags under our arms.

We expected the school gates to be locked, as we were very early. But the security chain was loose and one gate stood open, a sheet of paper in a plastic wallet reading "Campers straight to the quad". Erika nodded. "Oh, right, there must be people here already. Getting everything ready."

We both stood there for a second, looking up at the forbidding school. There was a rumour that it was haunted, and in this situation it was easy to believe. There was even the obligatory haunted house faint white mist curling across the tarmac. Was that a bat up by the—no, it was just a bird.

Something heavy, landing on my shoulder! I whirled round with a slight scream.

"Tag!" laughed Erika, tearing off across the playing field.

"Oh, you are going to get it now!" I yelled in reply, chasing after her. We pursued each other wildly around the school, shouting and laughing till we were weak, clinging on to our bulky sleeping bags. I caught her and zoomed, panting, off in the opposite direction – right into the stomach of someone very tall in a black tracksuit.

"Ow!" I cried, falling backwards.

"I've got you now!" shrieked Erika – then she skidded to a halt and said, rather more soberly, "Oh. Um, hello, sir."

The man I had bumped into was Chapman, our assistant principal, and one of the Sharing leaders. He looked as though he had been about to walk into the school, and he was clutching a huge box tightly, high up to keep it safe. It was large, oblong and heavy-looking, and covered with a thick black cloth.

Chapman looked angry, but he kept his cool. "Be careful, tearing around here." He recognised us through the darkness. "Joan and Erika, in Miss Bird's class?" We nodded silently. He looked at me kindly. "Are you feeling better now, Joan? You seemed quite upset in school today."

"Um, I'm okay. Thanks."

"Well, the meeting will certainly put you to rights. It's going to be a wonderful one tonight, don't you think?"

I nodded again. "What's that, in the box?"

He glanced down at it. "It's a surprise."

"Give us a clue," wheedled Erika. Chapman smiled slowly.

"It's what's going to make this meeting one you'll never forget."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I keep forgetting to say this, so... thank you so much to all my reviewers! I've never had to many reviews so quickly... maybe I should write in the Animorphs fandom more often! (grins) 

Right. You asked for it... you got it. Enjoy!

(Note: I've edited this chapter. Nothing major, just grammar and stuff.)

(Another note: That was stupid of me. I only went and uploaded five chapters at the same time. Thanks to the people who pointed that out. It was embarrassing. I've fixed it now, though... third time lucky, eh?)

**The Mistake**

**Chapter 3**

To be polite, we asked if Chapman wanted some help with his box, but he said he was okay. So we ran off and explored the school instead – it was so different after dark. So many shadows and spiders and unfamiliar shapes.

"I wish Tobias could have come," I said to Erika a little later. "He would really enjoy this."

"Oh, no." Erika stood in front of me with her arms crossed. "You are not going to be miserable tonight. You are going to have the time of your life, and if you think about Tobias, it will be about how his life's going to improve after he's found. Savvy?"

I smiled and pulled off a mock salute. "Yes, sir!"

It wasn't long before other people started to arrive, in ones and twos at first, and then in a steady stream from the front gate to the quadrangle. The ground had been swept and lamps scattered all about. In the centre of the courtyard was a group of trestle tables, pushed together and loaded with snacks.

"It's a beautiful night," announced Chapman, gesturing up at the sky. It was a deep purplish-black, the stars looked like diamonds, and the round moon was a deep, warm gold. "We decided it would be fun to sleep under the stars."

People started talking at once, and Erika started to say that it would be fun, but Chapman held up his arms for silence. He had been joined by the other Sharing leaders, all holding yellow plastic buckets. "And as well as all the other activities planned, there will be a very special kind of raffle going on. Everyone will need one ticket. No more, no less." He gestured at the buckets. "And people will be called in five at a time to receive their secret special prizes…"

The whispering started up again as the leaders arranged everyone into a queue and handed out tickets. Tom, one of them, grinned at us as he passed us the numbered pieces of paper. "The girls from last week, right? I'm glad you came, it's going to be fantastic."

Erika giggled. She thinks Tom is cute.

Once everyone had their tickets, the party began. Party was the best word for it, really. There was music, junk food, people spontaneously dancing the cancan; really, everything that makes a great night.

All through it, the leaders were calling out numbers, and groups of people extricated themselves from the merrymaking and entered the school. When they finally came out, they were very cagey about what had happened.

"It's a secret," they'd say conspiratorially, grinning all over their faces. "You'll have to wait and see."

"It's a secret," said Erika, smiling mysteriously.

"Oh, come on," I pleaded. "Just a hint?"

"Nothing doing."

"Please?"

"You'll have to wait and see."

Tom's voice floated across the quad. "Forty-one through forty-five!"

"Excellent!" I exclaimed. I was number forty-one; Erika had been forty. "I'll see you in a bit."

Erika waved me off. "See you!"

"Just so long as there are no killer vampires lying in wait!" I called back, and walked into the school.

I and four others were led down a dark corridor and paused by a door. Tom hustled the four – three boys and a girl whose names I couldn't remember – through one door into another hallway, but Chapman opened a door to our left and led me into a brightly-lit classroom. The desks and chairs had been stacked against one wall, leaving a large empty space in the middle of the floor. In this space were two unstacked chairs and the box Chapman had been carrying earlier. It sat on a big towel, still covered in its dark cloth. One of the janitor's cleaning rags was folded on the floor, damp and brownish.

The door clicked shut.

"Take a seat," Chapman smiled at me, gesturing to one of the plastic chairs. I sat in it, and he in the other. I pressed my knees together and twiddled my fingers, suddenly nervous.

"Oh, there's nothing to be afraid of," said Chapman with a laugh, seeing my expression. "I just want to talk."

"About what?"

He steepled his fingers and looked me in the eye. "You were very upset today," he said. It was a statement, not a question. "And this evening you still seemed a little out of sorts."

"It's nothing," I interrupted. What a weird raffle. Win a session with a shrink? "I'm fine."

"Don't worry," Chapman said soothingly. "It's okay, you can talk to me. I'm not just a big, bad assistant principal – I want to help."

I nodded and sighed. "Yeah, I know… I just… well, you know. It's sort of a personal thing."

"Your friend going missing?"

"Tobias?" I looked up at him, surprised. "How did you know?"

"I heard you talking to your friend Jake. Well, to be honest, most of the school did." I went beetroot and hung my head, but Chapman patted my arm gently. "Don't worry. We know Jake: his brother is one of our best members."

"Yeah, I know. Tom."

"Yes. And we're not like him – we're not going to hide anything. Will you let us help you find your friend?"

"Really?" I gasped eagerly. "You can do that?"

"I do have my uses," Chapman smiled easily. "We can and will help you get your Tobias back. All we ask in return is your help."

I was ecstatic. I could find Tobias! Everything could happen as Erika had said! "What do you need me for? Anything. I'll clean the lunch hall for a year. I'll do all your filing. I'll clean all the pen off the toilet walls. Anything."

"Oh, nothing like that," Chapman said. "We will help you find Tobias. If you will allow us to make you a full member of the Sharing."

"Yes! Of course! Whatever you want to do… Whatever initiation rites, I'll do them twice. I'll do them three times!"

"Good."

Chapman lifted the cloth from the box, and I saw that it wasn't a box at all – it was a tank. But it wasn't that which made my eyes widen, my throat tighten, my hands grip the sides of my chair in shock.

It was what was inside that did that.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter took so long: I wanted to make sure it was really good, seeing as it's kind of pivotal and stuff. But I swear to you now, the only thing that can make another chapter take this long is an all-out ban from the computer... and even then I'll go and kick our school computers until they figure out how to upload stuff. So have no fear! And enjoy this chapter.

Oh, by the way, fanfiction-dot-net is being stupid and won't let me use chevrons. So, until fanfiction-dot-net works out how to tell the difference between HTML and thought-speech, the latter might be a little messed up. I think I can get it to work, though. It'll just go like (this) instead of the right way.

I also want to say that Araeph is the greatest beta _ever_. That is all. (grins)

Oh, yeah, and this chapter has been edited for continuity reasons. Just mentioning it so that people re-reading don't think they're going mad. (wink)

**The Mistake**

**Chapter 4**

Slugs.

Hundreds of huge, green-brown slugs, swimming in a viscous brown liquid. Whirling around like maggots, horrible squat shapes, coming into focus as they pressed against the glass or slid above the surface like so many midget, slimy, mud-colored dolphins.

I stared, disgusted. I don't mind snails and worms and things, but those fat, greenish slugs sickened me.

"_What_ is _that_!"

Chapman knelt down beside the tank. "They're not dangerous, look." He stuck his hand into the seething, dirty mess without even a shudder. "They're harmless. But they're what you'll need if you're to become a full member."

"What, you want me to touch one? It's a courage test?" I stood up gingerly. That wouldn't be _so_ bad. Probably.

I thought I had guessed right at first, as Chapman cupped his hands and one of the slugs – I swear this is true – swam into them, while the rest coiled and dived about a half-inch away. He lifted the thing up and brought it over for me to see closely.

It was certainly like no slug I'd ever seen before. It was mottled, with little fins for swimming and antennae that waved about blindly, the little bulges on the end pulsating. Though Chapman carried it in both hands, it would easily have fit into one, with room left over for five more.

"So I have to touch it?" I said again, staring at the slug with a grimace.

"In a manner of speaking," said Chapman. "You just have to trust me." He lifted the slug up to my head.

"Hey, hey!" I objected. "You're not putting that in my hair. Um, sir."

"No, not in your hair. This might feel a little strange…"

The slug touched my ear.

"Oh, yuck!" I jerked my head away, wiping my earlobe with my finger. "Do we have to do this?"

Chapman looked at me. "If you want, we can stop. You only have to say, and you can go outside, even go home if you want. And Tobias will stay missing. Maybe even die. And you'll never see each other again."

"Don't," I told Chapman, and the word came out louder than I meant it to. I rubbed my eyes furiously. "Okay, I'll do it. For Tobias."

He smiled at me and patted my shoulder. "You're very brave. A good friend."

And he put the slug to my ear again.

I felt it squirming around, felt the tickle as its antennae searched.

_For Tobias._ I heard a loud squelching noise as it flattened itself out, squeezed into my ear like putty.

_For Tobias. _A sudden stabbing pain, quickly dulled to an ache; I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth.

_For Tobias. _My legs gave way and Chapman guided me back to the chair. My head felt cold and full of cotton wool. I didn't want to do this any more. This was beyond creepy. I wanted out. But the thought was snatched away in a jumble of random memories and emotions, like you get when you have a fever. What was happening?

I could no longer feel the thing in my ear. Had Chapman pulled it out? Was it over?

There was someone there. Not Chapman – someone else. Someone very close, though I couldn't see him. No, of course: my eyes were closed. Was he behind me? I tried to turn around. Couldn't. Was someone holding me?

My eyes opened. I hadn't decided to –

"Sight!" gasped a voice. It was mine. "Color! I never realized it was so beautiful!"

I had said… something strange. But I'd never chosen to speak.

(What's happening?) I screamed. My mouth didn't open, nor did my tongue move. The only sound was a crystal-clear thought in my head. (Help! Help! What's _happening_!)

(Hello… Joan,) said another soundless voice. My mind was opened like a book and rifled through, things I knew surfacing for inspection by the disembodied voice in my head. (Hello, human.)

(Who… what…)

(My name is Uric four-three-seven-one,) it told me. (You are my first host, except for my training. Is it not wonderful?)

I didn't answer. Couldn't. I was numb with shock. What was this thing? How had it gotten into me?

(You let me in, of course.)

It could read my thoughts?

(Yes.)

(You were the slug?) It made me feel sick – or, no, it didn't. I didn't even control my body's reactions any more.

(Not a slug. A Yeerk. It is the name of our race.)

(There's a whole _race_ of you?)

Chapman's voice interrupted the conversation. "How is it, Uric? Not making friends in there, I hope?"

I wanted to scream out that this was no joking matter, that there was a Yeerk slug in my head, controlling me! But of course, I couldn't.

"It is wonderful," I – no, Uric – well, both of us, sort of – said. "The sense of sight! The strength and balance! Much better than a Gedd. Thank you for this opportunity."

"Use it well," Chapman told him. He pulled a black duffel bag from behind the tank and unzipped it to reveal a tangle of silvery guns, and held one of them out. Despite my horrified protests, my arm extended, my fingers curled around the weapon, and my hand hid it under my coat.

"May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you," Uric said, standing and bowing with my body. It sounded like a ritual.

He read my thoughts. (Yes, your Chapman human is also a host.)

"May the—" Chapman -- or, at least, the thing in his head -- began, but he was interrupted by a loud, mournful howl. It started as a kind of high-pitched yelp, strengthening into a full-blooded, deep-throated baying. Three more voices joined it.

Wolves!

What were wolves doing here? Didn't they try to avoid humans?

Uric had an answer to that. He snapped the word out, with so much hatred and contempt that it scared me. "Andalites!"

Chapman had gone pale. "Help me," he ordered, pulling a key from his pocket, unlocking the door and throwing the cloth back onto the tank of Yeerks. I wanted to run, but Uric walked my body over to the tank and bent it at the knees, shoving my fingers underneath it, ready to lift. After throwing the bag over his shoulder, Chapman did the same, and together we hauled the heavy glass container out of the door, the filthy water lapping at the edges and making the fabric of the cover damp.

We went up the corridor, not back the way I had come, but through the school till we stopped outside the janitor's closet. Chapman and Uric lowered the tank to the floor, Chapman opened the door, and then he picked it up himself and backed into the cupboard. "Go outside," he commanded, the strain clear in his voice. "Go outside and… and this never happened." He kicked the door closed.

Uric turned my body around and hurried towards the main doors; neither of us had any wish to face the wolf pack in the quad. He was afraid. I was just plain confused. (What is an Andalite?) I asked him.

(Filthy creatures. Scourges of the universe.) Uric's thought was again full of revulsion. (They look like…) He searched my mind, trying to find a comparison. (Like centaurs. Blue centaurs, with wicked, bladed tails which they use for slaughter. They would kill us all, or else send us back to the pools to be blind and helpless all our lives. They have the power to transform into animals; hence the wolves.)

(But Erika's in the quad!)

(Erika? Oh, your friend.) Uric shook my head. (If she has the sense to keep quiet, they might not hurt her.)

That wasn't much comfort.

Uric was running now, the main doors just ahead. We burst through them, and came face-to-face with the snarling, ravening jaws of a large, grey wolf.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hi, fans. (grins) Here is chapter five, again beta'd by the inbesmirchable Araeph. Enjoy!

Oh, yeah, and this chapter has been edited for continuity reasons. Just mentioning it so that people re-reading don't think they're going mad. (wink)

**The Mistake**

**Chapter 5 **

I screamed, and so did Uric. We stumbled backwards through the door, back into the gloomy hallway, tripped over the step and landed hard on my rear. I half-expected not to feel it, but no such luck – evidently Uric and I were both hurt, because he exclaimed: (Aah! Ouch, this was certainly not a good start.)

He opened up my mind again, looking for all I knew about wolves, even as he scrambled to my feet and backed up against a stainless steel locker. (Would you mind not doing that?) I asked, panic making my thought-voice squeaky. (It's really… impolite.)

The animal stopped growling for a moment and turned its head slightly to look in the direction of the quadrangle. Then it turned back to us. It wasn't moving forward any more; it almost seemed to be guarding us.

(Why is there only one wolf? Where is the rest of its pack?) demanded Uric. (Of course! They are still in the quadrangle. If I can escape this one, I am free!)

I had an uneasy feeling that a human could not outrun a wolf, but Uric had a different plan. My hand slipped beneath my coat, questing for the gun. My fingers found the smooth, warm handle –

Another wolf, even bigger than the first, crouched in the doorway! It saw my face and seemed shocked for a second, then lifted its black gums in a snarl.

Uric stepped backwards and dropped my hand, defeated. All his exits were blocked, and if he shot one wolf the other would surely leap. I could feel that he had given up. Then he had an idea. He looked around wildly, then bent down towards the first wolf, extending my trembling hand as I might to a pet dog. "N…nice wolf," he said, not having to fake the quiver in my voice. "Good wolf…"

(You said they were Andalites,) I said accusingly.

(But they do not know I am here,) he replied.

Of course. By pretending to be a normal kid, not giving away the fact that he was just a play-acting Yeerk inside my head, he was trying to get the Andalites to leave us alone. (It is me they want,) he said, (me and all my brother and sister Yeerks. They will stop at nothing. They might kill you to get to me. Every Yeerk knows this.)

If possible, I felt even more afraid. What had I let myself in for?

The first wolf looked quizzically at the newcomer, who lifted his snout to sniff me. Uric froze, and I would have done the same. Then both wolves lowered their heads in twin snarls.

(Don't try to fool us, Yeerk,) growled one. (We can smell you.) I was shocked: they were using the same silent thought-speech as Uric. Were they related, Yeerks and Andalites?

(Do not insult me,) snapped Uric. (We are not even from the same planet.) Out loud, he said: "So you have found me, Andalite. What do you propose to do now? Kill this human? I think not. So shall we skip the pleasantries and get to the part where I walk away unharmed?"

He was trying to sound confident and unafraid, but I could hear the tremor in my voice, and I was sure the wolves noticed it too. Me, I was shocked all over again, this time at Uric's cold mention that I might be killed. (What are you doing?) I screamed at him silently, but he was concentrating on the wolves.

The larger wolf narrowed its eyes. (Don't mess with us, Yeerk.) Did its voice sound somehow familiar? But no: the only thought-voice I'd heard was Uric's, and it couldn't be him.

(She has a point,) said the smaller one. (What _can_ we do?)

Two more wolves came loping up to us, framed in the open doorway. (All the kids are safely away,) one reported. She had a long strip of denim in her jaws. (The Controllers took off, too, though there's one who'll need a new pair of trousers.) She dropped the denim.

The pair noticed me, and became silent. (Private thought-speak,) Uric explained. (I think the other two were using it before, as well.)

The largest wolf spoke again. (What were you doing up here? Why weren't you with the others?)

"What do you think I was doing?" Uric asked. He was a little more confident now that he was sure they weren't going to kill us. "I was getting acquainted with this delightful host."

(You know what we mean. We saw the people – the humans being taken in in fives, coming out again in fives. What makes you so special?)

"You want to know why? I'll tell you. It's because this human is one of the many who want to become part of the mighty Yeerk Empire."

(What are you talking about?)

Uric sounded gleeful. "She is a voluntary host. That's why she was infested separately, away from the pool."

One of the wolves made a noise of disgust. Another said: (I don't believe you!) I wasn't sure which one. It was true. I had let this happen. I had surrendered my body to this… thing.

For Tobias. I had done it to find Tobias. But even now, I wondered: had that been a lie? Did Chapman actually intend to help me? Or had he just used Tobias' disappearance as a bribe that he never intended to fulfil?

"You don't believe me?" sneered Uric. "Then I'll let her tell you firsthand."

Then he was gone. It took me by surprise, was so sudden that I failed to brace myself and fell to my knees with a noise of disbelief. Slowly, I moved my fingers, then my arms, then I got to my feet and stood by myself.

"Are you gone?" I whispered. And my mouth moved, my tongue rippled and my lips shaped the words.

(I'm still here,) said Uric.

(Well?) said the lead wolf, moving forwards slightly. They had all taken a step back when I had fallen. (Joan?)

"You're… Andalites?" I said hesitantly. I twined my fingers together edgily, then untangled them and gingerly touched my head.

(Yes.)

(Tell them, Joan,) Uric urged.

"I… I went into a classroom," I said hesitantly. The wolves regarded me, their expressions indecipherable. "With Chapman. He had a tank… full of… of Yeerks. He said… he promised…"

My mouth froze, my limbs locked. My face, my fingers, even the breath that blew down my windpipe was again no longer mine. Uric stared out through my eyes, aimed them and focused them, all despite me. He started the vibrations in my throat that came out as words. "Satisfied?"

(We're wasting our time here,) said the wolf. He spared one last glance full of anger and disappointment, though whether for me or the Yeerk I was not sure. Then he was gone, and the others with him, vanishing into the night like silent grey ghosts.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: Dudes, I'm really sorry it's taken this long. For those who don't know, a couple of my script-fics were deleted and I lost uploading priveliges. But now, to make up for it, Chapter 7 will be following hot on the heels of Chapter 6... when I'm able to get it up on the Net, anyway...

...My computer and Fanfiction-dot-net just plain don't get on, do they?

**The Mistake**

**Chapter 6**

Uric walked us home. He picked the way out of my head, and I was too despondent to protest.

(Why so silent?)

He could easily have just read my thoughts, but he was trying to make conversation. Still, I didn't answer.

(Joan?)

(Shut up,) I thought bitterly.

(What's the matter?)

(Besides having some slimy alien in my head?) I responded sarcastically. (You! You're the matter. You were being all polite and 'isn't this wonderful' at first, then as soon as anything bad happened you went all 'kill the human' and smug and… aargh!) I ended on what would have been a cry of frustration and anger had I been in control of my lungs. Even so, it echoed around my skull and astonished Uric into a few seconds' silence.

(You know I didn't mean any of that,) he said at length.

(I bet.)

(No, really. You must understand: if I had shown any weakness to the Andalites, they might have killed us.)

(You were just so… arrogant.) I fell silent, or at least stopped broadcasting my thoughts. But that didn't mean the Yeerk couldn't see them.

(You're worried about your friend, aren't you?)

(I _told_ you to _stop that_!)

(You're worried that we might go back on our promise to help.)

(How did you know about… oh. Yeah. I just… yeah.)

(We _are_ going to help; you just have to trust us.) Uric sent out a sort of mental version of a reassuring smile. But that just got me wondering how a slug with no face knew about smiles, and that led right back to him picking my brains. I morosely slumped into a psychological corner, and found that I could totally relax and flop with not the slightest change to my body's posture. I was jelly, and no matter which way I wobbled I had no effect on the mould.

It was a distinctly depressing thought.

But then I had an idea. If he could read my thoughts, I could read his! Why hadn't I thought of it before? But… how to go about it…?

I concentrated. _What are you thinking… what are you thinking…? _But every time I seemed to be getting somewhere, I came up hard against a mental block, a sort of attention-breaking invisible wall that pushed me right back to where I'd started from. Over and over again.

Why wasn't it working?

(It doesn't work like that,) Uric piped up. He sounded amused, as if he had been keeping silent on purpose, enjoying watching me tire myself out.

(Why not?) I demanded.

(I… don't know,) he said, honestly puzzled, as though he'd always taken it for granted before. I never really thought about it.

A jolly, tinkling tune suddenly jerked me out of my sulk. It was an old pop song, played out in little dings. _Why do birds suddenly appear… every time you are near?_ It seemed ridiculous: after a night full of aliens and shape-shifters, we were listening to a random… door-bell?

My door-bell! We were at my house. It was dark and cold outside, and Uric had to pull my coat closer to us as a chilly gust of wind blew through our front garden, but the windows were still glowing a warm yellow, lighting up the ruby curtains. I hadn't taken my key to the Sharing, as I hadn't expected to be back until late Saturday morning.

The Sharing! That was what had gotten me and Erika into this mess. If only she hadn't persuaded me to go… I hoped she was okay. She'd seemed fine when she'd come out. Maybe she'd got away. Maybe I was the only one to whom this had happened.

My mum answered the door. She was flustered and flushed, and the second she saw us she pulled us into a tight hug. "I saw on the news… I was so worried… about to come down there myself!" Then she shoved me to arm's length and glared. "Why didn't you have your cell phone on, young lady? Didn't you think I'd be worried?" Back to the hug, dragging me inside. "You must have been so scared, Joan! Come in, come in. I'll make you some hot chocolate."

We were plopped onto a kitchen chair to watch whilst mum put the kettle on and got out the powdered hot chocolate. She never took her eye off us, presumably in case a wolf broke in and ate me.

She talked as she bustled. "The newsreader said that's odd behaviour for wolves. Said they'd probably escaped from The Gardens or something. They couldn't find them, though. Said no-one got hurt, thank the Lord. Erika phoned to see if you were here. She was worried. You'd better call her back. Are you all right?" The kettle whistled.

(No!) I yelled. (No, I'm not all right! That's not even _me_ sitting at the table and nodding politely!)

"I'm _fine_, mum," said Uric. "Seriously! Don't worry!" Just as I would have done.

Mum came up beside us and handed us the steaming mug. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Never better," replied Uric, lifting the mug and wincing as the drink scalded our lips -- but licking them vigorously all the same, enjoying the sensation of flavour. "I mean, it was scary and all, but… you know… I'm back! And like you said, no-one got hurt, so everything's okay in the end, really."

Mum looked relieved, but didn't leave our side. She drew up a chair and sat right next to us. "As long as you're all right. I'm sorry this had to spoil your evening – I know how much you'd been looking forward to this."

Uric stood up and hugged my mum – and I hugged her too, no matter that it had no effect. It was something I'd wanted to do since the second I'd seen her: run up and hug her, and tell her how much I loved her. But of course, that desire only came once it was impossible for me to do so. "It's okay. I got something good out of it anyway."

I, knowing the full story, could see the irony in that comment. Mum just assumed I was making the best of a bad situation.

Later, Uric phoned Erika. I listened hard to her voice: the inflections, the remarks, the kind of weird off-key humour that Erika uses when she's been scared. They were all indistinguishable from the ordinary, just like her, with not a thing to indicate that anything might have happened to her.

I knew that this meant nothing.

We lay in bed not long after, eyes open. The landing light was on – my little brother Jack hates the dark, and he'd broken his nightlight – and it sent faint beams through the misted glass above my door, casting long grey shadows throughout my room. I felt tired; more tired than I'd felt in at least several months. (If you _don't_ mind, I'd like to get some sleep,) I said moodily.

(Speak for yourself,) retorted Uric: no doubt a phrase he'd stolen from my vocabulary. (Your eyes are amazing. I can't understand how you'd ever want to close them.)

(I'm sure I'll appreciate the compliment more when I'm not flat-out exhausted,) I yawned. I never realised that you could _think_ a yawn, but there you are.

I tried to raise my head and look at my clock. Hah. I should be so lucky. (What time is it?)

Uric aimed my eyes at the green, glowing digital display. (Four minutes to midnight.)

I groaned mentally. (This is going to be a long night.)

Still, I must have managed to go to sleep even with Uric propping my eyelids up, as I dreamed. I was running through a forest, pursued by hundreds of massive wolves with sharp claws and long, yellow teeth. I sprinted as fast as I could, but the further I went the harder it was to move.

"TSEEEEEEEER!" The shriek of a bird rang through the forest, and I saw it hovering overhead. Then it vanished and I was surrounded by the wolves, all howling and tossing their heads. They grew and changed into rank upon rank of huge, blue-skinned centaurs, with wicked hooks for tails and cruel, sallow eyes. Andalites! The ground fell away and I was sculling desperately in the Yeerk tank, with finned green slugs the size of sofas squirming and diving all around me. The nearest Andalite reached down and tore off my head; another attached long strings to my arms and legs and moved me like a puppet. And all the while they were chanting. "Voluntary. Voluntary. Voluntary. Voluntary."

I woke up. My eyes were already open, and I was sitting at the breakfast table, golden sunlight streaming through the blinds.

(Yaaah!)

(Ah, you're awake. You have very strange dreams.) Uric sounded bright and alert; presumably he'd slept last night, despite his protest.

(You shouldn't have been watching,) I said without much venom. I'd thought for a second that I'd merely imagined last night; but here I was, still a prisoner in my own body.

(Don't think of it like that,) said Uric conversationally. (Think of it as a change of pace.)

(Have I mentioned "don't read my mind"?)

(Repeatedly.)

(Well… don't,) I rejoined weakly. Uric didn't reply: my mum had come in, and he was concentrating on pretending to be me.

Breakfast passed uneventfully, and afterwards Uric asked me: (What do you want to do today?)

(What?) I was surprised. I'd sort of assumed there would be some big alien meeting. Then lunch at McPluto's, as Erika might say.

We were in my room again, Uric pacing up and down and occasionally doing a little jig. He couldn't seem to get over having limbs. (No, there's nothing planned. Gosh, did you see that leap? Of course you did. No, the day's plan is up to you.)

I didn't hesitate. (Can we look for Tobias?)

(I had a feeling you might say that.)

Mum was reluctant to let me out of her sight after last night, but she relaxed her vigil slightly when Uric told her that I'd be meeting Erika. For some reason, mum seems to think my friend is more sensible than me. Anyway, this wasn't exactly a lie: we could phone Erika, and rope her into helping us look for Tobias.

So phone we did. She would meet us in town in a quarter of an hour. I spotted her halfway down the main street, and Uric focused my eyes on her. He waved, and she waved back. They walked towards each other.

"Hey! How're you doing?" she asked with a smile and a best-friend-hug.

"Oh, fine. Just a little wolf-baiting. You know, the usual." They both laughed.

"Okay, what are we doing here?" Erika asked.

Uric told her.

She frowned. "Why?"

That's when I knew. (Oh, my God,) I whispered. (They got you, too.)


	7. Chapter 7

**The Mistake**

**Chapter 7**

Erika knew I cared for Tobias. She'd been sympathetic, supportive. She'd refused to let me be miserable about him, but she'd understood why I might be.

The Yeerk wasn't like that. It did not care about me or about Tobias. It had, through Erika's eyes, seen me go into the school. It had assumed I had been infested. Now it was confronted by "me" worried about what had happened to some insignificant human. It had been caught by surprise. And it had slipped up.

"Well," said Uric with my mouth, "we have nothing planned, do we?"

He meant that the Yeerks had no immediate plans. He was trying to tell the Yeerk in my friend's head that, yes, the infestation had happened as planned, without blurting it out loud to a street full of people. Maybe I imagined it, but a flicker in Erika's eyes told me her Yeerk had understood.

The real Erika would have wanted to help, so the Yeerk had no choice but to go along or risk blowing its disguise. But my heart was not in it any more. Erika was a slave. So was I, and no one had noticed. How many more people might have Yeerks in their heads? My mum? My brother? Tobias?

(Why are you doing this?) I asked Uric. (What do you want with us?)

(We don't want to be blind any more,) he replied simply.

There was one problem with the search. I didn't have the blindest idea where to start. We posed the query to Erika.

"The police station would seem sensible," she suggested.

So that was where we went. The two of us, passengers; and the Yeerks, the drivers. What if the cops were… had Yeerks in their heads?

(Controllers,) advised Uric. (The term for a creature that has been infested is a Controller.)

(Oh,) I said shortly. I still wasn't happy with him rummaging around in my head.

We quickly spotted the blue-and-white lamp of the station. "That case has been put on standby," said the cop at the desk when we asked him.

"_What_?"

"It's been put on standby," he repeated, closing the file in which he'd found that information.

"But why?"

"We can't just go giving out information to anybody who asks," said the guy, shaking his head.

"But he's my friend! You can't just give up! You must have some idea where he is!"

Uric did a pretty good 'me' impression, I had to admit.

"I'm afraid not. Sorry." The cop looked genuinely regretful.

So that was a dead end. We and Erika left, the latter politely thanking the guy for his trouble, the former giving an Oscar-winning performance of a teenage girl in distress. Yeerks sure are good actors. I guess they have to be.

Everything we tried led to a blind alley that morning. At about twelve, Erika peeled off gratefully to go home, and we, too, trudged off back to my house for lunch. The afternoon was taken up by homework. There were some advantages to being a Controller, I reflected: for example, I had always struggled with Maths, but Uric sped through it like Einstein on pep pills. Other things, like History and Geography, he had more trouble with: I guessed that he hadn't really bothered to learn anything about Earth before landing here. He had to get by on what he could drudge from my knowledge, and I had never been exactly studious.

The next day was Sunday. Church felt strange when I couldn't sing the hymns: Uric belted them out for me, but it wasn't the same. It felt almost blasphemous to be bringing a body-stealing alien into a church.

(Why is that?) Uric asked me privately during the sermon. (Is it against your laws?)

(No,) I said, not bothering to scold him for reading my thoughts. (It's just… it doesn't feel right. I don't know if… it would be approved of.)

(Is this God your commander, then?)

(No... Well, yes. Sort of. He's the Lord, you see. Made everything, and stuff. But it's hard to explain. He's not from Earth.)

(He is an alien to you?)

(No. Well… no. He's not from anywhere, really. But he… I don't know. It's hard to explain.)

Yes, that's me. Joan the philosopher.

Our schedule for the afternoon: more homework. The teachers don't half pile it on you in our year. Time for a bit of reading, some messing around on the computer, then shower and bed.

And then it was Monday. The third day since the Sharing meeting. Three whole days? Had it really been that long? It seemed to have flown past, and I found I had almost gotten used to Uric, not bothering to react to things, knowing it would have no effect on what he did.

I was trying not to think about it.

(I will have to feed tonight,) Uric told me as he brushed my hair that morning.

(We ate breakfast just this morning,) I replied in confusion.

(No, I mean me as in myself, separately,) said Uric. (Every three days a Yeerk must swim in the pool to soak up Kandrona rays – those are artificial imitations of the rays of the sun on our home world.)

(Swim in the pool?) I repeated.

(Yes. Like the tank you saw before, but far, far larger.)

(I don't swim very well,) I warned him. (I took lessons a while back, but—)

(Joan,) Uric interrupted, pausing as he tied my shoelaces. (You won't be swimming. I will. I'll have to leave your body.)

(You'll what?) It was the only thing I could think of to say. I didn't know what to think. Should I be glad? Laughing? Scared?

(It won't be permanent,) Uric cut through my bewilderment. (Only for… well, I don't know how long it will take. But it will not be for more than an hour or so, if that.)

An hour or more of freedom. Of independence. Of self-control and responsibility. Of isolation.

(When?) I asked shakily, wondering if this was really true.

(Tonight. Seven o' clock.)


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Hi there. The Pit isn't allowing me to upload documents at the moment, so I was a little bit stuffed... but then Boz4PM showed me a way to get chapters up without uploading documents! Basically, you export a chapter, and it's converted into a new document, which you can clear and then copy-paste the new chapter into. So this chapter is dedicated to her, as without her help it wouldn't be up yet!

Also, I sent the next chapters to my beta a few days ago, but I haven't heard back yet, so I don't know how long it'll be. Fingers crossed for a short wait.

Thanks to all my reviewers: I hope you're enjoying this story, and I can only apologise for the somewhat rickety updating schedule. And now... enjoy!

**The Mistake**

**Chapter 8**

After the blink-and-you'll-miss-it weekend, Monday dragged by at a snail's pace. It seemed hours before the bell for the end of first period rang, and an eternity before second period finished. Even break seemed to lag, with Uric chatting to Erika. He had no interest in the conversation, and neither, I guessed, did Erika's Yeerk. They were merely two actors putting on masks to fool the rest of the world.

The third lesson to bore our brains and numb our skulls was History. We were just finishing a topic on Soviet Russia, during which I had read much and learned approximately ten percent of it. We yawned surreptitiously and stretched our arms behind our back; it was a habit of mine that Uric had picked up. Question four was making us go cross-eyed.

We leant over to Jake, who was at the desk next to us. "Hey, how many factors have you got leading up to the collapse of Communism?"

He looked up, and an odd expression passed over his face as he looked at us, but it was gone before I could work out what it was. He shrugged. "I'm still working out how many ways Source Two's cartoon is reliable," he said under his breath, indicating the textbook.

"I only got like three points for that whole question," we whispered back.

"Oh, no, I think there are meant to be six for each part. Many of which probably involve the small cloud in the top left representing the Cold War or something similarly ridiculous."

"You two!" snapped the teacher. "Stop talking!"

"We're talking about the work, miss," Uric protested.

"Well, do it quietly."

Jake had gone back to his writing, leaving us to forge on by ourself. (Why do you even have to know this?) complained Uric. (It is completely irrelevant to your present life.)

(Well, I guess if I grow up and become President I need to know how not to start wars,) I suggested. (Something all good presidents should know.)

Nothing of note happened all day. A couple of guys had a fight at lunch-time, but then, I'll bet that happens at every school. That evening, Uric was fidgety, even more so than usual, unable to settle down and do the History work that we had so abysmally failed to finish in class. Dinner was sporadic: first picking at the food, then gobbling it down. Mum assumed I was nervous about the Sharing meeting. She was right, but for all the wrong reasons.

"Honey, if you want to give it a miss tonight, I'm sure they'll understand. After Friday night and everything."

We'd never even got the sleeping bag back. Mum had been annoyed about that: it was something normal for her to worry about, far less scary than mad wolves. When The Gardens had denied any animals escaping, the experts had been forced to conclude that the wolves had been short of prey lately, making them hungry enough to venture near humans.

"Mum, what did I tell you? I'm fine. We're in a different meeting place anyway." We grinned. "Besides, lightning never strikes twice, right?"

Mum evidently decided that if I was making jokes there couldn't be much wrong with me, because she let us go after that. I could practically taste Uric's relief.

Our neighbourhood's Sharing meeting-house was a long, low brick building with a tiled roof, near the river but far enough inland that we couldn't see the sea. I'd been there only once before, with Erika. She was there already, helping a couple of older girls lug a huge basket across the field. She saw us and nodded, but couldn't wave for fear of dropping it.

Uric waved and grinned at her. I was worried about the basket. (They're not going to try the same thing again, are they!) I demanded, shocked.

(I haven't been told of anything,) Uric replied. But then the girls dropped the basket with a collective sigh of relief, and we saw that it was full of balls: rugby balls, footballs, basketballs…

(Thank God,) I said quietly.

It was almost seven o'clock by then, and Uric steered us towards the huge, dilapidated shed around the back of the meeting-house. This ramshackle stone building was used to store the kayaks and canoes, the lifejackets, the big several-billion-watt flashlights, and all sorts of other odds and ends. A group of full members was already inside, moving around in the light of one of those torches. Erika was with them.

She looked around and saw me. "Hey, Joan! What took you so long?"

"Are we all here?" asked a dark-haired guy of about forty, who wore the badge of a Sharing leader.

There was a general chorus of 'yes's.

"Good." He selected a key from a thick metal ring of them and locked the shed door behind us. With the windows all covered with cloth, there was now no way anyone could see in. Then he kicked a shred of carpet away and, with another key, unlocked the trap door which had been revealed. This was made of metal rather than the stone and wood of the hut, and the concrete around it was lighter and newer.

He raised the door, and we filed down, down a long, steep, winding stair surrounded on both sides by hard-packed dirt that eventually gave way to dark rock. Smooth, cold rock that the slightest sound would echo off of to ten times its normal volume. And it was impossible to ignore the sounds coming from down below.

Screams. Screams of terror, of anger, of despair. Unfamiliar roars of some kinds of animals – some full-throated and furious, others hissing and chilling. A thick sloshing sound like a swimming pool, though the smell was nothing like chlorine. It was a stale smell, the smell of air that had been underground too long with little circulation, and mixed with something else – some bitter, sickening stink. The same stink that had come from the tank in the spare classroom, a lifetime ago – but amplified a thousand times.

(What is this place?) I asked in fear.

(It is all right,) Uric tried to reassure me. (We won't be here for long.) I could tell from his voice that he saw nothing wrong, but that was no comfort. Who knew what an alien might call home?

My question was answered sooner than I would have liked.

The walls simply dropped away, revealing a huge cavern. Enormous! Titanic! Infinite! It stretched far above our heads into a hazy rock sky, and below our feet we could distantly see what I thought at first must be the centre of the Earth. Countless staircases twisted down towards an entire underground city, almost an entire civilization, which grew like lichen up the stone walls. This was fronted by a bubbling brown pool which, as we drew nearer, I could see was rippling with Yeerks. But that wasn't what made me scream so loudly and shrilly that Uric shook my head in discomfort.

There were cages. Huge, strong, iron cages with thick bars. They were arranged into groups: humans in one area; gigantic scuttling centipedes in another; and creatures unlike any I'd seen before, creatures with serrated, snaky heads and long blades that raked back over their bodies, confined to prisons even larger and sturdier than the others.

(Hork-Bajir,) Uric named them for me. He turned my head away from the horrible panorama, but he couldn't stop me hearing the screams. (And the centipedes are Taxxons. Never trust a Taxxon: they are disgusting creatures, but great soldiers. They will eat anything. It's safest just to keep your distance.)

(Soldiers? What _is_ this? What are you playing at!)

But Uric didn't reply, and now we were on ground level, marching towards a steel pier on the side of the pool. There were several of these little docks, poking out over the seething mass. On one side, the side closest to us, people walked calmly out and kneeled, lowering their heads over the pool. Then they changed. On one pier, they were simply standing and walking away, as coolly as they had come. But on the others, they would scream and kick, trying to escape, and would be wrestled into a cage by other controllers.

I and a blonde guy of about twenty peeled off from the main group and headed toward the queue at the first pier, whilst the others all lined up at the others. The Sharing leader guy yelled jovially over to us as he stood near the back of the line. "Lucky people! I'm going to ask the Visser for a voluntary too, this guy gets on my nerves."

"Keep hoping," the blonde guy laughed, his eyes twinkling. The leader laughed too.

And we two, we _voluntaries_ (God, how I hated that word by now), stepped down to the pier and waited our turn to be uninfested. He went first; from my position right behind him I could see the Yeerk trickle out of his ear as if his brain was trying to escape, and snap back into its right shape just before it slid into the pool. The guy shook himself, nodded at me and strode away.

It was my turn.

I did not want to do this.

But at the same time, I couldn't wait.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: I'm really, really sorry for the overlong wait. I don't really have an excuse, other than that my computer time has been seriously limited lately. Still, I'm writing the final chapters as we speak, and I'm sure you'd all rather have a short wait than a long author's note, so I'll sign off here and get back to the story. Sorry again.

**The Mistake**

**Chapter 9**

We were standing right at the end of the steel pier, over the churning brown Yeerk pool. Uric knelt us down, positioned my head low over the water, and then –

I felt a strange sensation, tickling at first, then escalating into outright pain. I whimpered. Then I could feel something cold and slimy in my ear, and hear a tiny _plop_ right below it.

I realised I was shaking.

"Well?" said a voice. It was a bored-looking human-Controller, leaning down next to me, ready to help me up. "What are you waiting for? Victory Day?"

I realised I'd been waiting for Uric to make a move. But Uric was no longer there.

Shaking, I stood up.

"There you go," the man said, clapping me on the shoulder. "Now shoo."

"Um… where?" I asked. It felt strange to be speaking aloud again.

"Oh, first time, right?" The guy grinned and pointed. "Over there and on the left. Can't miss it. Now move it, you're holding up the line."

I walked dazedly back up the pier to higher ground, and in the direction the man had indicated. Now I could see an area separate from the cages, cheerily lit and scattered with comfortable chairs. Humans and Hork-Bajir lounged in these, talking and laughing, some watching TV. Huge yellow Taxxons scuttled about underfoot.

Voluntaries.

I stopped walking for a moment and just stared, then forced myself to go on, keeping my head down. It was either this or the cages. I took a chair right at the edge of the group, sitting awkwardly with my hands clasped in my lap.

"Hey, beautiful! Want a game?"

It was a guy about my age, maybe a year older, who had (for reasons best known to himself) spiked his hair and dyed it an electric blue. He was grinning at me, holding two pool cues.

I stared for a moment. Not to sound rude, I responded with a surprised: "Er… okay, yeah."

He led me to the back of the area, to a battered-looking pool table. "You know how to play?"

"Sure, I have a vague idea."

He grinned and brandished a triangle, starting to set the balls into place. "My name's Mickey. No mouse jokes, please. How about you?"

"Um. Joan."

"Divine." Without warning, he whipped away the triangle and potted two balls. "Your move."

I managed to hit the white into another ball, but nothing touched the sides, let alone went into a hole. "Oh. Crap. Sorry."

"No worries, you'll get used to it. I play way too much. There's never anything on TV." Mickey grinned again and easily potted another two balls, then moved to help me line up my cue. "So, what brings you down here?"

"Oh… well, Uric said that every three days…"

He laughed. "No, I mean to start with! You a Sharing member or what?"

"Oh. Yes." I realised that I wasn't exactly contributing to the conversation. "What about you?"

"Family sucks," he said bluntly, moving my arm to improve my aim. "Mum's broke and I haven't seen my old man in years. These guys gave me a fresh start." He peered knowledgeably at the table. "If you get the white to hit that red, I'd bet my soul it'd get those other three in the corner net…"

A gravellyvoice cut across us. I jumped when I realised that a Hork-Bajir was talking, calling from just inside the voluntary area.

"Sally Lewis, Lucy Pensworthy and Michael Padstow to the loading bay," it said. "_Gra fit. _Time's up."

"That's me," he said apologetically, laying down his pool cue. "Hey, look me up, okay?"

"Uh, yeah, okay," I called as he, a teenage girl and a woman of forty-ish were hurried away to the steel piers. I stood there for a moment, then moved the pool balls around listlessly for a few seconds before returning to my chair. No-one else tried to pick me up, so I spent the time watching some sitcom about a bunch of people who didn't seem to do anything. Mickey had been right when he'd said there was nothing on.

"Joan Davies and Samuel Colbert to the loading bay!"

The Hork-Bajir was back. I heaved myself out of my chair and followed him, and the blonde guy from before did the same. Although the guy tried to strike up a conversation, walking back to that pool was like being on Death Row, or led under the Bridge of Sighs to be executed.

The infestation piers were on the other side of the pool, and we had to walk past a lot of cages in which humans cried, screamed, begged, threatened or just sat and stared hopelessly at nothing. One woman spat sharply at me. "Traitor! _Traitor!_"

The Hork-Bajir banged his arm-blades against the cage bars, knocking her away. "_Nach! Fit nach._ Be quiet!"

And then we were lining up on the pier, guarded by two more Controllers: another Hork-Bajir and a darting, hissing Taxxon. The blonde guy lowered his ear into the viscous soup, unable to suppress a shudder as his Yeerk slid back in. Then he stood up, once again a Controller.

It was my turn.

I looked down. One of those little flashes of unhealthy greenish-greywas Uric Four-Three-Seven-One, waiting to crawl back into my ear and make me a slave again. I wouldn't be able to speak. I wouldn't be able to move. I wouldn't be able even to choose what sounds to listen to, what sights to focus on. I would be utterly a slave.

But I wasn't one yet.

"No!" I screamed – and, spinning around, knocking shocked humans out of the way, I sprinted towards the nearest staircase.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Wrestling with Chapter 11 as we speak. Had fun in Germany but didn't manage to get much writing done, so I'm waaaaay behind. 'Pologies 'bout that.

**The Mistake**

**Chapter 10**

I was running flat-out, gasping in the stale air, sneakersricocheting off the hard floor. I ploughed through the crowd, clawing at their grabbing hands. I knew I was being chased, but I was in full sprint now. In the cages, people were watching my progress: some cheering wildly, others silent, following me with hollow eyes in sombre faces. In the voluntary area, a girl my age with ginger hair was placing a bet as to how far I'd get before—

WHAM!

"Aaaaaaah!"

An enormous, muscular, brown-spined Hork-Bajir was in front of me, stamping its Stegosaurus feet threateningly. I dodged clumsily sideways, caught by surprise, and ran straight into the waiting claws of another one of the huge, bladed beasts. It caught me up into a crushing bear-hug, and I kicked it desperately, but it didn't seem to even feel the bruise.

I froze as the edge of one of its elbow-blades tickled my throat. I whimpered.

"_Grrt fash!_ Quiet!" the first alien commanded in the strange welding of English and its own language as I'd heard before. I didn't need telling twice. The only movement I made was trembling, and the only sound gulping sobs.

The Hork-Bajir carried me effortlessly back to the pool, blade still close enough to my throat to terrify me into submission. I could hear groans and boos from the cages, jeers from the voluntary area.

Next to the "in" pier, the Hork-Bajir set me down and manhandled me to the edge, his horny skin digging painfully into my arm. Looking down at the thick brown liquid, I had a sudden wild urge to run again, whether they killed me or not—but by then I was being forced to my knees, and I barely had time to snatch a breath before I was choking and struggling with my head below the surface. The Hork-Bajir held me down firmly, but didn't bother to threaten me again: he had me where he wanted me.

I shrieked briefly and wriggled in vain as Uric began to scrunch himself into my ear, and I felt the tickle across my face as a stream of bubbles raced each other to the surface. Then came the pain, and I screamed again; the Hork-Bajir hauled me out of the water, clamping my arms to my sides like a living straitjacket. A drowned host was of no use to anyone.

A wave of dizziness and nausea made me dry-retch, and then Uric straightened me like a puppet, thanking the Hork-Bajir. The huge dinosaur-thing nodded to him, then stepped backwards to allow him to walk us away from the pier.

A few people were still staring curiously. Uric glared at them with my eyes as he berated me. Really, Joan, what has gotten into you? You've embarrassed me. I thought you saw how good this relationship was.

Good for you, maybe! I screeched hysterically. Stealing people's bodies! Get out!

Joan, if you just--

Get out! Get out! Get out of my head!

I screamed as we met Erika and the rest of our group. I cried as we ascended the long stairway. I threatened as we climbed, one by one, through the hidden trap-door and dried our hair. And I pleaded as we rejoined the meeting, surrounded by happy faces which would one day be controlled by an alien slug whilst the real person was crushed into a tiny corner of their own mind, forced to spend the rest of their life in a cage, whether mental or tangible.

That was rather poetic, offered Uric. He was still trying to get back on my good side, to pretend that the incident in the Yeerk Pool had not happened.

I didn't answer. All the resistance in the world had not helped the people in those cages, and it had done me no good, either. Now I brooded silently.

The meeting was hardly a formal occasion, so people popped in and out as they pleased. I hoped I was wrong, but I suspected that several of them had an invitation down to the Yeerk Pool.

At last, the end arrived, allowing everyone to say their goodbyes and go off to their various ways of getting home. Erika and I lived near each other, so we were walking home together, but we didn't talk much. Erika kept looking at me sideways like her Yeerk wanted to ask about what had happened down in the Pool, but it was too risky a topic to discuss out loud. I wasn't talking to Uric, and he seemed to have given up on me. So, all things considered, I was relieved when Uric bid goodbye to Erika and trudged into my house.

As usual, I fell asleep before Uric, but my night was far from restful. I dozed and woke fitfully, panicking every time I found myself trapped in the blackness of a body I couldn't control, that had its eyes closed. It was impossible to tell whether Uric was asleep.

At last, the sun dragged itself above the horizon, bringing the dawn chorus with it. School was even slower than the day before, especially as Uric hardly took any notice of me, and I ignored him when he did. I'd reached the silent, sulking stage.

I hardly noticed as Uric munched on cornflakes, or as he puzzled over what "vorletzt" meant in German class. I only started paying attention when yet another nasty surprise was announced after school. Jake came running up, looking like he'd rather not be doing whatever he was doing.

"Er, I saw that you were upset… and… stuff," he began lamely. "About Tobias. And… I'm sure, you know, wherever he is, that he's still friends with you."

Uric, like a slimy idiot, said in surprise: "Friends? I thought th—that we were a couple."

Jake's expression at that little outburst was all I needed to confirm that my hope had been false. My stupid, false, vain, juvenile hope. But hey, in a world where slugs take over people's brains, who needs puppy love?

Jake said, "Er… I don't know… sorry," and high-tailed it out of there. I don't blame him. The silence was… awkward.

Uric looked confused for a couple of seconds, then started walking towards the school gate. He wasn't talking, so I guessed his little slug mind was buzzing away. Me? I was curled up in my own little corner of misery. All around, people churned their way out of school, and up in the sky, some big bird hovered against the obnoxiously fluffy clouds.

So Uric was striding with my legs towards the gate, until he stopped suddenly. He must have come to quite a revelation, as he said aloud: "That wolf knew your name."

If he was going to elaborate, he was interrupted by someone shoving past in a hurry. "Oi—watch it!" Uric called at Marco,who was marching at quite a pace away from the school. I envied him right then—he could walk back home to his normal life, maybe watch TV, talk to his dad of his own violation, with no more worry than that there was double math tomorrow.

Right then, that was all I wanted, too. I wanted to go home, greet my mum, grab a Tracker bar, and slob.

But Uric had other ideas. He was walking purposefully towards the gate, and turning to the right, pushing through the crowds of students to follow Jake.


End file.
